World's Best Protagonist [BL]

Dawn had barely brushed the sky with the faintest shades of lavender and blue when I felt Claude stir beside me.

I blinked away the last traces of sleep and turned my head slowly.

Claude was already upright, sitting at the edge of the bed with his boots half-laced, his sword strapped and ready by his side.

He moved with that same maddening grace, quietly, fluidly, and intentionally. Like, he didn’t even need sleep, or did not even feel exhaustion at all. Like he was carved from some ancient god’s stubborn resolve.

"You’re up," I mumbled, my voice still husky with sleep. I yawned and stretched my arms up, my bones cracked, but it was not enough to wake me up completely. "What time is it?"

Claude didn’t look back, but I saw the side of his jaw tick. "Time to go."

Great. The man wakes up at an hour when even birds are still negotiating whether life is worth chirping about, and now I have to pretend I’m not exhausted. Gone was the cold, silent treatment from him, and back to the old, open, cranky, and bossy days of him.

But I prefer the latter. So, I won’t complain.

Still, "Do I get at least five minutes to mentally prepare for another day of walking into the unknown with only cryptic comments and a sword-wielding statue for company?"

Back to the fun bickering also. Who would have thought I’d miss squabbling with him?

Claude paused. "Four minutes."

I groaned and collapsed dramatically back into the pillow.

But, of course, four minutes turned into two, and the next thing I knew, Claude was pulling the blanket off of me like I was some reluctant child being dragged to swordsmanship class.

"You said four minutes!" I whined, pulling the blanket back.

"I said ’time to go,’" Claude replied coolly.

He succeeded in snatching the blanket from me, but I clung to the bed, grabbing onto the sheets instead and daring to go back to sleep.

Claude hissed. I ignored him. I’m mentally tired because of him, so I need a few more minutes of undisturbed sleep. However, my wish was not granted. Before I knew it, my body was lifted from the bed.

"Hey!"

I grabbed the hands grabbing my waist and pulled them away. But as annoying as he was, he did not listen and turned my body over, then yanked me onto his shoulder like a sack of rice.

I was flabbergasted.

"Alright, alright. Put me down, I’ll walk on my own." I sighed, resignedly. I waved goodbye at the bed with sad eyes and tapped the captain’s back.

Thankfully, he listened this time and put me down, then gave me that piercing look. Okay, fine. I won’t go back to bed. Tsk. Taking my coat hanging from the nail on the wall, I watched Claude open the door and carefully peeked outside.

What is he being cautious and guarded about? He’s too distrustful of people.

Emil’s parents were up when we stepped outside, and Emil was wiping sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. They handed us some bread and dried meat, and Emil clung to Claude’s leg in a silent thank-you.

Claude, predictably, froze like he didn’t know what to do with small humans expressing affection.

"We’ll repay the kindness," Claude said to the parents.

"We didn’t do anything," Emil’s mother replied with a warm smile. "It was you who saved our boy. Be safe out there."

We nodded and followed Emil’s father, who volunteered to escort us until outside their village. We reached a rough road after some time. Emil’s father pointed at the far distance in the north. Our gazes followed what he was pointing at.

"That pointed spire is in the largest town’s plaza in the east. If you walk on this path, you’ll pass several small villages. Follow the spire. You can only rent horses or carriages in that town. So, you will have to walk until then."

"How long is it going to take to reach that town on foot?"

"If you walk without resting, you’ll reach before the next day."

I gaped at the old man. Who’s stupid enough to walk for 24 hours straight without resting? I almost blurted that out.

Claude nodded to the old man, and we soon set out. We munch on the food along the way, and by noon, we have passed two small villages already. Emil’s father was right. There were no horses, or at least a cart or wagon we could buy or rent.

But now that I remembered, even if they were, we wouldn’t be able to buy it, since we didn’t have any of this world’s money.

"Are we going to travel on foot until we reach the north?"

"Are you crazy? We’ll get something to ride on."

"How? We don’t have money."

Claude paused. He just realized it. "We steal."

"Are you crazy?" Claude glared at me. I just shot back his own words. What is he glaring at? "Money or horse?"

"Money."

"We’re the worst if you think of stealing money from these villagers."

Claude exhaled slowly through his nose. "We’ll take it from the town."

"Oh, so that’s better," I deadpanned. "We’re stealing money from a town now. Very morally superior of you, Captain."

He didn’t answer. He just kept walking with that tall, straight-backed posture like he hadn’t just planned a grand larceny before lunch.

Then, he shot back, "Coming from someone who has done it before."

I halted. He continued walking as if he didn’t drop a bomb that struck me big time. That was low. But it was also the truth. So, I couldn’t refute it. I scrambled after him, muttering every curse I knew under my breath.

"Well, you’re the one with the ’I-don’t-blink-and-I-scare-everyone’ face, so you’re doing the stealing," I grumbled. "People would probably hand you their wallets just to avoid eye contact."

Claude didn’t even flinch. "Fine."

That... surprised me. I expected him to insist I do it since I’ve done it before. I blinked at him. "Wait, really?"

"Less noise, less risk," he said dryly.

"Wow. That’s... disturbingly efficient."

He shot me a brief look. The kind that made me shut up instantly because, well, that face was not built for jokes. Still, I swore I saw the corner of his lips twitch—just a little.

We walked for hours more. The sky bled into deeper shades of orange and violet, and soon the sun dipped beneath the horizon, leaving only the faint trail of light lingering behind.

By that point, I was convinced I was walking on bloody stumps. My calves were screaming. My toes were numb. My everything was on strike.

"My legs..." I groaned, dragging my feet. "They’ve turned to jelly. I am no longer human. I am noodle. A very cranky noodle."

Did I ask who was stupid enough to walk 24 hours straight without resting? Claude! It was Claude!

The guy finally stopped walking and turned his head just slightly to the side. "Then we rest."

"Oh, thank everything." If he hadn’t agreed, I’d have jumped him from the back and forced him to carry me all the way.

We stepped off the road, choosing a quiet spot beneath a large tree. It had a thick trunk, and its branches stretched like arms into the darkening sky.

There was nothing around but the open field, the sounds of crickets, and the soft rustling of leaves above. Not exactly a five-star inn, but at least I wasn’t moving anymore.

Claude set his sword beside him and sat against the tree without a word. I collapsed beside him like I had just been hit by a rogue cart.

"Remind me to never trust you when you say we’ll just walk for a bit," I huffed. "You’ve got the walking stamina of a possessed iron golem."

He didn’t respond. I looked over.

Claude was just... sitting there. Silent. Calm. Unbothered. His face tilted toward the stars as if he were trying to memorize their positions. He’s imitating those actors doing a music video, really.

The moonlight touched his features gently. That sharp jawline. The faint glint of light in his obsidian eyes. His hair was slightly tousled from the wind, giving him that infuriatingly tragic-hero look like he walked straight out of a painting meant to ruin people’s peace of mind.

"You don’t get tired, do you?" I mumbled, rubbing my calves.

Claude hummed noncommittally.

I sighed and leaned back against the tree. My body ached all over, but at least there was a breeze. Still, it was quiet. A little too quiet. The kind that made your thoughts louder than they should be. In times like these, I miss my books.

I glanced at Claude again. Still statuesque. Still unreadable.

And then, without even thinking, I shifted closer. My body moved on its own. It was just one of those moments when your limbs don’t ask for permission—they just do. My shoulder brushed against his arm, and before I knew it, my head found his shoulder.

"Don’t move," I muttered before he could say anything. "My neck’s gonna break if I sleep sitting straight."

Claude tensed. I felt it. His breath caught—just slightly—but he didn’t move away.

A small smile appeared on my face. I tilted my head downward to hide it from him.

There was a warmth there. Subtle and steady. Not from his body, no—Claude always felt like ice and fire at once. But this warmth came from the stillness between us.

The fact that he didn’t pull away. That he allowed this. That I was resting on him, and he wasn’t treating me like I’d grown an extra head. I guess something really changed between us because of last night.

The wind rustled the leaves above us. My eyelids grew heavier.

"I’m only doing this because I’m tired," I murmured, not really sure who I was talking to anymore. "Not because I like leaning on you, or anything..."

Claude didn’t say a word.

I was too sleepy to care.

And eventually, the stars above blurred, my breath evened out, and sleep took me—right there, resting against the one person who made me feel the most at ease and the most confused, all at the same time.